The Experiments
by Serato5050
Summary: During the Clone Wars, you see many different clones: Pilots, commandos, ARC troopers, ARF troopers, and many more. What if there were an experimental batch of troopers, created in utmost secrecy, who only reported to the certain Jedi and the Chancellor. This is an AU of Star Wars. (Rated M for language, gore, and nudity).
1. Chapter 1

ESOC Trooper: Experimental Special Operations Clone Trooper

Designation: ESOC Trooper 9295; 'Zenith'

Age: 9 (Clone Years) 18 (Human Years)

I Am an Experiment

She's dying. Simple as that. Dying because I can't help her, because no one can. But she's happy, joyful, with huge blue eyes. I can't let her die but it's all I can do. She's so damn brave. She knows she's dying... but she knows how to live it up. Fuck. I'm tearing up. She comes up to me, "Um, Mr. clonetrooper, can you play with me. Please?"

I only nod, grabbing my helmet as I stand up. She points towards a forest. "There's a clearing out there. We can play there. She says. I walk after her. We find her clearing and she tells me to pick up a rock. She picks one up to. "Here, throw it at that tree. If you can hit inside the hollow, you win." She instructs.

"Sure kid, let's do it." Her eyes widen from happiness. The clone said something other than, "Yes sir or ma'am."

We spend hours throwing rocks at the hollow. I lose 73 to 95. She has a hell of a throw.

It's late and I know she has only so much time left. We walk through the Turu grass back to the village. We head to her house, the smell of some unknown creature wafts through the air.

"Hello mama, papa, this is my friend," She introduces me to her parents. "Mr. Clonetrooper."

I guess I have a nickname now.

"I hope I won't be a bother here," I say timidly.

"It's all good, come sit with us, eat. It is an honor to have a soldier in our home, " He leans over to me as everyone digs in. "And thankyou so much for keeping our daughter occupied these past two days, you have made this easier on us and softened the blow it gave her. Thankyou." He whispers.

I can only nod, my eyes teary.

Dinner is now over. Her parents are cleaning and preparing tomorrow's meals. Sadly, only for two people.

She sits me down and says, " I am so glad you've been with me for the past two days. Thankyou! Thankyou! Thankyou! I know I'm dying but I was so happy when you said you'd stay with me rather than go out into the town with your friends. Thankyou." She's sobbing now.

"I-it's okay kid, I'm right here." I stutter. I hug her and she hugs me back so hard that I can feel it through my chest plate. I feel so terrible, unable to do a thing about her death, but I think, 'I can't be depressed. I have to support her... Even if it's until her dying breath.'

She pulls away. "Come here Mister," She picks up a small jar of some orange substance and unscrews it. "I don't know much about clones but I do know that you like to be different, even if it's by a tiny bit. I-if you let me, I can make you different and I can make it so you never forget me." Her eyes are pleading. Clones aren't supposed to 'feel' but to hell with it, it's a dying girl's last damned wish.

"Go ahead kid, anything works." Her face lights up and she smiles.

"Thank you." She chirps also telling me to put my helmet on. She sticks her opened palm into the jar getting the substance on her hand. Her left hand. She brings it up to my right triceps and wraps her and has far as she can around the gauntlet. When she takes her hand off, I can see an orange handprint. "That's how you'll remember me, and this," She dips both her pointer and middle finger into the orange stuff. "is the mark of our friendship." She utters softly while drawing two diagonal lines across my helmet, starting from the top right corner of the visor all the way down to the bottom left of my air filter."

Thanks," I hug her against me. "Really."

"Your welcome Mr. Clonetro-," A hacking cough rips through her body making her fall over. I catch her whispering, "It's gonna be okay, it's gonna be fine," I dash into the house. One look at her in my arms and her parents open the door to her bedroom. I set her down on her bed softly. We all gather around her. _Cough, cough, cough_, she looks at us, then just at me, " Thank You Mister, for everything you've given me. For your time and care. Thank You. Please, can I see your face- _Cough _-one last time? I can only nod. I take off my helmet and attach it to my belt.

"Mr. CloneTrooper, I want you to know that I care about you. I don't want you to grieve over my death. I want you to use me as a tap to life and happiness, please, do this for me."

"I promise that I'll do it, I promise." I can barely hear myself whisper the phrase. She coughs up blood. Lots.

"Trooper, what's your name?" She asks.

"My designa-." I'm cut off by her voice.

"Not your number, your name." She's demanding it.

"My name I-is Zenith. It's Zenith." I say softly. She falls into another coughing fit.

After recovering she says in a hushed voice,

"That's a nice name… Zenith. Thank You, all of you for everything. Goodbye mom, dad, Zenith... Thankyou."

She's gone. I fall to my knees while her parents hug and cry over their ten year old, togruta daughter.

Atrana Tieveri. I will forever cherish your memory.


	2. Chapter 2

ESOC Trooper: Experimental Special Operations Clone Trooper

Designation: ESOC Trooper 9295; 'Zenith'

Age: 9 (Clone Years), Age: 18 (Human Years)

"What're ya lookin' at, kid, this isn't cadet training, get yer ass off the ground an' start blastin'!" My squad leader's voice rings out.

"Sir, yes, sir!" I yell back, grabbing my rifle and scrambling up. I aim over my cover structure and fire. Both blaster bolts hit their targets: two B2 battle droids.

"Yeah, take the bantha kriffs down!" Another clone, an over enthusiastic one shouts.

Then our squad leader yells, "grab your combat shields and droid poppers, we're gonna rush the blast doors. Move on my mark... And... Let's go!

Four men grab shields, two pick up backpacks full of droid poppers and thermal detonators, and another four of us, myself included, cover the men throwing grenades. Our group hops over the rocky, cover spot we've been hiding in and charge the heavy doors.

Shields smash into smaller B1 battle droids, while the grenadiers and our support group take out larger droids.

As we reach the door, I realize that it was too easy. There was no improvisation in our plan and we reached the doors too _quickly. _

Quick is never good. It means something you don't expect is guaranteed to happen. Sadly, in my case, that is exactly what happened.

'Shit!' I look around, the droids are still moving on us, but mainly through the doors. Our squad leader left me and a few others to guard the doors while lead the rest of our squad to clear out the droids inside the tunnel. After contemplating of the surprise would come through the tunnel (which I decided was again, too easy) I turn around and look up to the guard towers, now full of dead droids- wait! I put my scope up to visor level and point my gun at the farthest gun tower from our position. 'Definity shit.'

_**Boom!**_

The remaining troops and I, who unfortunately were standing outside the blast door, and not inside cover, are thrown to the ground by the explosion. A proton charge! Well, no, we'd be dead if it was, it's a sonic variable concussion grenade built to sound like a proton charge. I push myself off the ground and look over to my brothers. Two down, one standing- now falling again. I stagger over to the three and start hauling the first trooper inside the doors.

_**Boom!**_

Another explosion sounds. I stumble over to the other trooper's bodies. Dragging two men at one time is much easier said than done, but eventually, I manage to get them both inside the doors, out of range of the 'proton charge' launching mortar.

"Get back, I repeat, get back!" I hear our squad leader cry out. "We're getting over run, get back!"

Picking up one of my fallen comrade's rifles, I run back to the open doors. Droids- or what's left of them- are now mobilized outside of our group's hiding place. I instantly begin blasting at their heads, torsos, and anything else I can hit.

I can hear the thudding footsteps behind me.

It's the squad leader, along with _three _men.

"Trooper, what happened here?" He asks in a worried tone, looking at the bodies of the downed soldiers.

"There's a proton launcher at the guard tower, it's over there!" I yell over the deafening sound of blaster bolts hitting shields and dura steel. "It hit our position, I got them," I gesture at the troopers. "Back inside."

"Kriff!" The squad leader shouts. "You three, yeah, you, plant detonators along the walls and stick them to the ceiling. On my say so, blow them. That'll keep those scrap heaps down for good. Then, partner up, a shielded trooper in front of a gunner, understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Our group's remnant says in unison.

"Alright then, partner up, and you," he points at me. You're gonna blow the charges, then run like hell toward the mortar, we'll keep ya covered kid, sound good?" He asks, tilting his helmeted head.

"Of course, sir!" I answer.

"Good, here's the activator for the thermals." He picks up a shield and calls over the unpaired trooper. "Now, on my mark, three, two, one, run!" He yells. I run towards the mortar, dodging stray blaster bolts, and an occasional proton charge.

Suddenly, a voice sounds from my comlink, "blow them!" I press the activator and... Boom! It's not nearly as loud as the proton charges' explosion, but still, loud. Dropping the activator to relieve myself of the even slightest amount of weight, I place my rifle in both my hands and continue running towards my goal.

_**Boom!**_

"Kriff!" I yell as I'm thrown to the side by another explosion. Lifting myself up, I jump away just in time to dodge a sniper bolt. "So, they have a sniper up there too, kriffing perfect." I mutter, finally reaching cover.

The not-too-bright sniper droid risks peeking from his 'safe' cover place, only to meet a circuit frying bolt to its head. Courtesy of _my _rifle.

I vault over my rock and run to a ladder at the side of the guard tower. Glancing back at my comrades, I see only two left standing, the squad leader and another trooper called 9183. Experimentals or ESOC troopers don't earn their monickers until after they've been in actual combat. Anyway, I look back at my objective, now only meters away.

_**Boom!**_

"Kriff!" I stumble but catch myself before falling. Who in Force's name blows charges that close to their position, if that were a real proton charge, the blast would have toppled over the whole damn tower. After the thought of the fortification collapsing, I practically fly up the ladder to get to the mortar, as stupid and unrealistic as the thought is- considering my situation- it spurs me on. The droid, apparently another commando, scrambles over to my half pulled up body and tries to punch me. I move my head out of its fist's way and barrel into it, using the momentum of my push-up against the tower's floor to smash into it. Now fully in the guard tower, I punch the droid's head and try to rip it off. Sparks fly as its head breaks off. Tossing the droid head away from me, I kick the droid's body off the tower.

I contact my struggling companions. "Sir? Sir!?" I yell into my comlink.

"What... Is it... Kid?" He asks in a fatigued voice, all the while gasping for breath. Without anyone else to help him, the man is now taking all the aggro off of me.

"Get down, I'm gonna fire the mortar. Danger close!" I pick up a proton charge and drop it inside the launcher. Then, I press it's trigger button and the explosive flies. I don't remember how many I fire, but it takes down every kriffing droid in the area.

The last thing I see before exhaustion puts me under is the gray, durasteel ceiling of the guard tower and a robotic voice saying, "Simulation Complete! Well Done!"

And that had been my first day in the ESOATP. The Experimental Special Operations Advanced Training Program. What I knew, know, and will never forget is that wearing black armor and using different tactics doesn't make training hurt any less. It only makes it hurt more, like, a_ ton_ more. But I have my own _quiet_ way of just saying how much it hurts, but I won't share that with anyone.

It's my secret, and mine alone.


End file.
